


A Different Fate

by RedBlood_Moon



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Leaving Home
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29410290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedBlood_Moon/pseuds/RedBlood_Moon
Summary: In a world where Gyda does not die and decides to stay with her father when both her mother and brother leave Kattegat, everything changes.
Relationships: Bjorn & Lagertha, Bjorn & Ragnar Lothbrok, Gyda & Lagertha (Vikings), Gyda & Ragnar Lothbrok, implied Aslaug/Ragnar Lothbrok, past Lagertha/Ragnar Lothbrok
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**A Different Fate**

**I**

“You are really going to abandon me?” He had made mistakes, he knew that, but some things just happened. He had wronged her, yes, and he could understand that she was angry with him, but was that truly enough to make her leave? “Without even saying a word?”

“You insult and humiliate me.” That look in her eyes was a familiar one; the last time he had seen it had been many years ago when her father died during a raid. Back then, she killed his murderer and half a dozen other men before kneeling down next to him to close his eyes for the finale time. It was a look that spoke simultaneously of anger and hurt. “I have no other choice but to leave you, and to divorce you!”

“I don’t want you to go.” His voice was barely more than a whisper even though he wanted _so hard_ to sound strong and confident, to make her understand how much he meant these words. No matter what she thought, there was no woman he had ever loved as he loved her. He couldn’t imagine a life without her.

“It’s fate.”

There was no hesitation in her voice or on her face. He could see that she wasn’t happy with it either, but she had made her decision and would stick to it no matter what he would say.

“Fine,” he said, swallowing his emotions for now and turning his attention to the other person on the cart instead. “But you will at least allow me to say goodbye to my daughter, will you?”

Gyda didn’t wait for her mother to reply before she jumped into his arms, almost throwing them both to the ground in the process.

He laughed, for that was better than to cry in front of his family; _that,_ he would not allow himself. “Careful,” he said. “You’re a woman now, not a little child. I can’t throw you around as easily as I used to.”

“Liar.” She, on the other hand, obviously didn’t mind openly crying into his chest. But then, she had always been more emotional than he was, no matter how mature she had become over the last few, _short_ years.

“Look after your mother, would you?” he muttered into her hair before kissing the top of her head. “She might be a great warrior, but even she has no eyes on the back of her head.”

She didn’t have time to reply before the sound of steps made all their heads turn around, watching the approaching figure of a boy running towards them.

He didn’t let go of Gyda, keeping one arm around her shoulder – _and when did she become so big? Wasn’t she only a child just a few days ago?_ \- while he turned around to look with wide eyes at Bjorn, knowing in his heart what he would say even before he opened his mouth.

“I have changed my mind.” He turned towards his mother. “I’m coming with you.”

There was no surprise on her face when he looked at her, just _pity_ , of all things, that made him quickly look away again. _Lagertha, Gyda, and now Bjorn,_ he thought with a painful sting in his chest. _I replaced one family for another, but I’m not sure if it was worth it._

He would love to argue, to make his son stay with him, but Bjorn was old enough to make his own decisions. No matter how much of a child he might still be in some regards, legally he was a man. It was he who had decided that he was ready to receive his arm ring, after all.

With no other option left, he grabbed his boy and pulled him into a hug as well. This would be the last time he held both his children in his arms for a long, long time, so he needed to make the most of it.

“I’m staying.”

It was so silent that he had almost missed it, but he abruptly pulled back and looked into Gyda’s wet eyes once the words registered in his mind. “What?”

“I said that I’m staying here.” Her voice shivered, but she held her head high and didn’t avoid his gaze as she looked at him with an expression that was so similar to her mother's that it hurt to look at. “With you.”

Lagertha, who had until now watched the entire scene from the cart, jumped down and landed beside them. “Gyda,” she said, her own voice steady even though he could hear the uncertainty in it. “Are you sure?”

She just nodded.

For all her maturity and calmness, Gyda was still very much their daughter. It had been more obvious when she was young and kept their entire village on their toes with all her energy or when she ran around and asked everyone she met countless questions no one knew the answer for than it had been in recent years where she kept a calm demeanour almost all the time, but no one who would see her right now could possibly doubt her parentage. She didn’t scream, didn’t show her emotions for all the world to see nor gave them a cold stare as Lagertha used to when she was angry, but there was a strength in her eyes that couldn’t be missed.

Gyda had made her decision and nothing he or anyone else would say could change that.

Having realized that as well, Lagertha pulled her into a hug of her own.

“In that case it is your father that you need to watch after,” she said so silently that he almost missed it. “He always runs headlong into trouble, no matter what he claims about trouble finding him instead. He needs someone to save him when that happens. Can you do that for me?”

He didn’t hear her reply, but he didn’t need to. Instead, he turned back towards Bjorn.

“The next time we see each other, you will be a man grown.” He gently slapped his shoulder with a low chuckle. “Not just in spirit but in flesh as well.”

He audibly swallowed. “Will you take me with you on raids, then?”

“I will hardly be able to stop you at that point,” he laughed while he stubbornly ignored the wetness in his eyes. “Hear my words, you will have gained more fame than me before you even know it!”

He wanted to stay like this forever if only to delay the inevitable, but he forced himself to pull back and hoist him up the cart while Lagertha climbed up herself.

They started to drive off soon after while he stood back with Gyda, pulling her close with one arm around her shoulder while they watched the other half of their family vanish into the distance.

“Why did you decided to stay?” Maybe it was wrong of him to ask, but he needed to know. She had already decided to go, driving away from the village with her mother while Bjorn first decided to stay before he changed his mind.

“Because then you would stay back all alone.”

He turned away from the small figure in the distance to look at her with confusion. “Alone? What are you talking about? There are Floki, Torstein-“

“But they’re not family.”

He could bring up Aslaug and his unborn son, or even Rollo, but he didn’t. She was right, after all; the former wasn’t really family yet and it was to be seen if they ever would while the later… well, the less said about his betrayal, the better.

He also considered asking whether she joined her mother because of the same reason when Bjorn decided to stay, but he wasn’t brave enough to hear the answer to that. Besides, it wasn’t fair to ask a child which of their parents was their favourite.

He pulled her even closer, putting his chin on top of her head so that she couldn't see the tears in his eyes. “Thank you.”

Lagertha and Bjorn were gone, but at least he had his daughter. She, he vowed by all the gods, he wouldn’t lose.

“We head back,” he finally said. “No need wasting time by staring into the distance.”

She chuckled. “But you do that all the time.”

“Oh, but that’s different!” He straightened up in faux affront. “I do that only when I’m thinking and the gods knew that happens rarely enough.”

However, there were many things he would need to think about soon.

* * *

“I want to learn how to fight.”

He looked up from his ale, surprised by the sudden statement. “What?”

“I said-“

“I heard you the first time,” he interrupted her before leaning forwards with a slight tilt of his head. “ _Why_ do you want to learn how to fight?”

He and Lagertha had agreed that all of their children would learn how to defend themselves whether they became warriors or not. It just wouldn’t do for them to be defenceless when they were under attack, after all. However, Gyda had never shown any particular interest in it before. She knew how to swiftly handle a knife and had a general idea of how to swing a sword, but that’s it.

“I can’t protect you if I don’t know how to fight, right?”

He snorted. “I’m a good enough fighter on my own and there are many other warriors with me whenever I go on a raid. I will be fine.”

“I still want to learn,” she said with narrowed eyes. _Apparently she has become more stubborn with her mother’s departure,_ he thought amused. Not that it was much of a surprise; she was, after all, both their daughter.

“The answer is no.”

“But-“

“A man shouldn’t fight if he has no reason to,” he said sternly. “And the same goes for women as well. You need some real conviction to-“

“Then I will ask uncle Rollo,” she interrupted him, her arms crossed.

“Then _I_ will forbid him from teaching you.”

“He will do it anyway if I ask him to.”

The worst thing was that she was probably right.

“Mother is a shieldmaiden and you’re a famous warrior,” she continued. “I want- no, _I will_ live up to that, whether you agree to train me or not.”

She was nervous, he could see it, but she kept looking at him while forcing herself to stand still.

To be completely honest, the idea of fighting side by side with his daughter was tempting. It had nothing to do with bragging when he said that, considering who her parents were, she had the potential to be a great warrior. For all that she didn’t radiate the violent spirit that warriors usually possessed, she had a strong character and would be able to keep a calm head even in battle. With the right training, she could become a legend in her own right.

Also, the image of him, Lagertha, Bjorn, and Gyda one day fighting side by side was indeed very appealing to him.

“You really want that?”

“Yes!”

“ _Really?”_

“ _Yes!”_

“Fine.” She blinked in surprise at his sudden change of heart, but he ignored it. “I will train you.”

Her expression immediately brightened in a way that made her look much younger, reminding him that once again that, for all her maturity and even though she had already bled, she was still a child in some ways. Then again, she would probably always remain a bit of a child in his eyes.

“But,” he continued before she could open her mouth, “you’re better prepared for it to be gruesome and painful. If I teach you how to fight, I will do it _right._ You will sweat, you will bleed, and you will probably cry-“

“I will not!”

“-and even if you change your mind, we will continue. We will not stop until you can beat the living shit out of anyone, do you understand?”

“I do.” There was no hesitation, no doubt. _Good._

At least this arrangement had the advantage that he didn’t need to worry about men getting the wrong idea about having his way with her, unlikely as it was. His reputation and rank should be enough to keep them away, but you never knew.

“Great.” Then, without further warning, he pulled her legs away to throw her to the ground.

To his pleasant surprise she reacted fast enough to catch herself and take a clumsy swing at him that he easily blocked. A moment later she found herself on the ground with the knife he had been using to eat at her throat.

“Well,” he said with a grin. “That was horrible. Not a complete disaster, but still horrible. I see we have a lot ahead of us, don’t we?”

She didn’t reply, but, to his amusement, she had actually _the gall_ to pout at him.

“Torstein!” he called through the hall while pulling her up with him. “My daughter wants to learn how to fight, so get her a damn sword and shield!”

There was cheering from all over the place after he finished, the support making Gyda blush even though she tried to hide it.

He would make sure that she became the damn best shieldmaiden out there. _By Odin, even the Valkyries will be jealous of her by the time we journey west again. I swear it!_


	2. Chapter 2

**A Different Fate**

**II**

“Gyda!” a loud voice called from behind her. “Where were you hiding all day? Come on, get over here!”

She stopped herself from grimacing while she turned around. “Do I need to?”

Her father shot her one of his infuriating grins. “Yes you do. Now hurry, we don't have all day.”

_Great,_ she thought. _Now I spent hours upon hours hiding in that dusty barn for nothing._ “Why aren't you already finished?” she asked. “Usually-”

“Usually we don't need to wait for my daughter to make an appearance,” he interrupted her with a chuckle. “The boys couldn't focus at all because they were sick with worry, so we decided to stop beating them and wait for you. Can't take corpses with us when we sail west again, can we now?”

This time she didn't bother to stop herself from grimacing.

She wasn't as passionate about fighting as others but liked it well enough. It would be a lie if she said that it didn't feel good to stand above a fallen opponent after a hard-fought victory, after all. However, she could do without the stares some of the men shot her, especially since her last growth spurt. No matter what the other woman said about counting herself lucky for inheriting her mother's looks and how she should use it for her advantage -or how she should get herself a man, for that matter- she only found it uncomfortable and annoying.

At least most of them stopped after she beat them in a fight for the first time.

“Just kidding,” her father suddenly said, more gentle than before. “It's just us and some of my men. The young hotheads are all gone already.”

When he said 'my men', he meant those he considered not just comrades but friends like Floki and Torstein, which was a relief. _They_ never stared at her, or at least not like that.

They were almost at the beach already when he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “You can't run away from training all the time, Gyda,” he said while looking her directly into her eyes. “Blind them if they bother you for all I care, but you need to keep your skills sharp or you will die in your first battle.”

“I know,” she sighed before throwing her elbow into his side. “But don't mind if I _actually_ blind them.”

He laughed, completely unbothered by the side blow. “Hah, that's my girl!”

“Ragnar!” Torstein called as they came into view. “So you finally found her. Where was she this time, the woods or the old barn?”

“Neither,” her father said before she had the chance to. “She was just walking down the street with no worries in the world!”

She ignored their laughter with a small smile on her face while grabbing a sword and an axe. They didn't mean any harm and did, in fact, jest with each other almost as often as they breathed. It actually made her feel good to know that they were comfortable enough with her to act no different when she was around than when they were alone. After all, not only were they her father's friends first, they had also known her since the day she was born. She might be seventeen now, but it wouldn't have been surprising if they still viewed her as that little kid they used to know.

_I really should try to get some friends my own age,_ she told herself even though she knew that the odds of that happening were slim. It wasn't as if she didn't get along with her peers -quite the opposite, in fact, as she got along with pretty much everyone- but she did never really bond with anyone.

“No shield?” Torstein asked when she came back to them. “How daring of you.”

She shrugged. “I'm not as big as Mother, so a shield is just as bothersome as it is handy half the time.” She was fortunately not too small to carry one at all -that would have been embarrassing- but outside of a shield wall she preferred to fight without one.

Floki had been more than happy to help her train fight like that.

“Well, then show me what you got, will ya'?”

And she did just that.

* * *

“There are ships,” a woman next to her exclaimed. “Ships are coming!”

She turned around to look at where she was pointing and immediately recognized the banner. “Go get my father,” she said without turning around, letting the fishing equipment in her hands drop and walk towards the pier. “Tell him Jarl Borg is here.”

Borg had been expected to arrive every day now, so this wasn't a surprise, but that didn't mean that anyone had been looking forward to it. Many people from Kattegat had died in the fight against him, after all. Also, on a more personal note, he had somehow convinced her uncle to betray and fight against them. Although the gods had forgiven him -or at least gave him a second chance- the people and he himself definitively did not. It pained her to see him lying drunk in some corner whenever she spotted him. No matter what he may have done, he was still her uncle and she loved him.

Ultimately, all this could be laid to the feet of this man.

“Jarl Borg,” she greeted the man when his ship finally reached the pier, making sure that none of her feelings showed in her smile. “We have been expecting you.”

“Of course you did.” He only shot her a glance before looking around. “After all, _Ragnar Lothbrok_ invited me here himself to raid the west together with him and King Horik!” He turned back to her. “Say, speaking of the man, where is he? I wish to talk with him.”

“I already sent for my father,” she said, noting amused how much less dismissive his gaze suddenly became at this revelation. “I'm sure he will be here soon, though we can go to the great hall to warm yourself. It is a bit colder here than it is at your home in Denmark, isn't it?” She made sure that her voice and expression were completely innocent when she said the last part.

Borg looked at her for a few seconds with apparent confusion whether she was mocking him or was actually genuinely concerned, almost making her snort, before masking it with a smirk and motioning for her to lead the way.

“So,” he said a few moments later. “You're Ragnar's daughter?”

“As far as I know, yes.”

He laughed. “Yes, yes, fair enough.” He then narrowed his eyes a bit. “Though I'm surprised to find you here. I could swear I heard that Ragnar's wife left him years ago and you would think she would have taken her children with her.”

It wasn't easy but she kept a pleasant smile on her lips. “She indeed left, but I decided to stay.”

“And what about your brother? What was his name again... something with 'B', I believe?”

“Bjorn went with our mother when she left.”

That seemed to amuse him. “So one half went while the other left?” he laughed. “A family split in two, now that is a story for the bards! Tell me, what made you stay?”

Fortunately she was saved from answering by a new voice.

“Gyda?” Aslaug said as she walked towards them. “I didn't know we had a guest, especially not such an important one.”

“I sent someone for you and Father,” she lied without batting an eye before turning towards the man at her side. “Jarl Borg, this is my father's wife, Aslaug.”

He grinned. “Of course she is. I would recognize the famous daughter of Sigurd everywhere! It has been much too long, my dear. You look lovely as always.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile that appeared to be completely sincerer for anyone who didn't know her as she seamlessly took her place at his side. “And I agree, it has been far too long. Come, let us find you something to drink until my husband arrives.”

He didn't resist when she started to lead him away, though he turned around one last time to address her. “It was _lovely_ to meet you, Gyda Ragnarsdottir. I look forward to talking more with you in the future.”

He didn't wait for her to reply before turning around again, liberating her from being forced to keep her act up. For all that she prided herself in having a calm and approachable demeanour, something about the way Borg spoke and moved made her feel on guard. It was almost similar to the way her father acted when someone challenged him or said something he didn't like, just less... intentional.

This was also why she didn't mind Aslaug for once.

The woman was always nice to her and appeared to genuinely want to be on good terms with her, but their relationship never truly warmed up. That was on her, though, as she just couldn't forget that it was she who had replaced her mother. She didn't blame her as much as she did when she was younger because she had realized that it was as much her father's fault as it was hers, but seeing her sit where her mother should sit was still hard to swallow. All that, just because he wanted more sons...

She remembered being hurt when she overheard this little tidbit for the first time. After all, he had Bjorn and her, didn't he? Wasn't that enough? Wasn't _she_ enough? Was she less important just because she was a girl?

While she had overcome these _stupid feelings_ more or less by now -her father loved her just as much as her siblings, no matter her gender- she thought they might be part of the reason she wasn't interested in having children herself. She had seen what the desire for them could do, so why should she risk the same?

That didn't mean that she didn't love her little brothers, of course. They were probably the main reason she even bothered to keep somewhat of a good rapport between her and Aslaug in the first place.

The cheers from the great hall pulled her out of her thoughts. _Well,_ she thought, _at least there is going to be a feast today._

* * *

She had thought Kattegat had been crowded when Jarl Borg and his men arrived, but with the addition of King Horik and his entourage, the town was bursting at every end even with its most recent expansions. As much as it had grown since her youth, Kattegat just wasn't made to house so many people.

Not that this stopped people from squeezing into the great hall to feast with each other. There was barely enough space to walk from one place to another, you couldn't stand or sit anywhere without bumping into someone else, and the steamy smell of sweat and alcohol and food was omnipresent.

Basically, it was everything that a good feast needed to be.

Ale flowed in streams and the tables bend under the weight of all the food while men and women cried and laughed with each other, no matter where they came from. All the animosity that existed between them was forgotten for this one evening, though everyone knew that this wouldn't last. They would have their back once they had sailed west, if only because they hated the Saxons more than they hated each other, but it was unlikely that true friendship would develop for quite some time yet.

She walked among them and yet was not part of it at all.

She stopped to talk to people but never stayed for long; she had a curved horn of ale in her hand that had needed to be refilled a few times already but wasn't as drunk as most others; she walked through the masses but was mostly invisible. It were times like this that she was glad that she had spent so much time following her father around over the last few years. For all that she wasn't as good at what he called 'people watching' as he, she found that there was much to learn from observing others when they thought themselves safe.

She also had the advantage of not being quite as noticeable as her father. While he kept mostly in the background and watched the people from afar and from behind objects to remain unseen, she could stand right beside them and listen to their conversations. Even some of those few that recognized her didn't care to mind their words, judging her harmless!

This usually allowed her to be one of the first to hear of any and all rumour in Kattegat. If there was something interesting going on, she would know about it. There seemed to be nothing of note going on this evening, though. Maybe it was just one of those boring days or she simply had had too high expectations to begin with, but she couldn't help herself from being slightly disappointed by the lack of stories. By Freyja, the most interesting thing she had heard about so far was that the blacksmith's son had apparently lost half his manhood when the woman he had slept with bit it right off!

However, she was saved from her boredom -or at least whatever counted as boredom on a feast like this- by the sight of her father's disappearing back just before he left the hall. Now, that in itself was nothing special, of course. After all, everyone left the hall from time to time to release themselves or the such. She knew that this was different, though, because she recognized the way he walked; it wasn't leisurely but tense and hurried as if he was trying to get away before anyone could notice his inner turmoil.

She followed him without needing to think about it.

While she didn't see him when she had finally made her way through the mass of people and out of the hall, she knew all too well where he would be.

She was proven right a few minutes later when she reached the beach and saw him stare into the distance, arms crossed in front of him.

She came to a stop beside him. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” If he didn't, well, then there was not much she could do. Even her mother had failed more often than not to get something out of him when he truly didn't want to. When she had been younger she could usually make him do things by simply looking at him with wide eyes and a pout, but that strategy had become less effective as she aged.

It still worked from time to time, though.

He didn't answer or even look at her for several minutes, making her think he wasn't in the mood to talk right now, but then he finally opened his mouth when she was just about to turn around and leave again.

“King Horik has decided that he doesn't trust Jarl Borg after all and thus doesn't want him with us when we sail west,” he said with a detached voice she knew he used when he was boiling with anger. “And he wants _me_ to tell him that.”

That was... not good. She thought that Borg had something dangerous to him, but she still preferred him to Horik. Though to be fair, that might come partly from the way his sons kept looking at her. “And are you gonna do it?”

“I don't have a choice.” His voice became sharper. “He's the king and he has almost as many men as Borg and me together! If I must choose an ally, he's the better choice.”

She didn't know what to say to that. The logic was sound, but... “Borg will not like that.”

He snorted. “Of course he will not like it, but he has no choice but to accept it.” He seemed to consider the matter for a few seconds before a grim smile began to spread over his face. “Though maybe I should point him into the right decision regarding who is at fault for that...”

She knew the face he made when he was plotting too well at this point to even try to talk to him. Even if he heard her, she wouldn't get a clear answer to any question she might ask anyway. So, instead of wasting her time, she just turned around and watched the waves break on the beach with the only light being the stars and the moon in the sky.

There would be enough time to worry later. It was better to simply enjoy the calm as long as she could, especially when she was sure that it wouldn't last for long.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually ask for reviews, but in this case I'll make an exception.  
> I have a pretty clear idea of what I want to do with this story, but I also have ideas for many other stories. I'm not sure which ones I want to focus on at the moment, but if there's enough demand I'll probably focus on this one.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)


End file.
